


It's an F12

by TriDom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cars, M/M, Peter is a gearhead, Pre-Relationship, Stiles is 17, They are all flirty shits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:05:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDom/pseuds/TriDom
Summary: Stiles should be very grateful he's cute. That's why Peter excuses the things that come out of his smart mouth.





	It's an F12

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S CANON PETER IS INTO CARS. HERE HAVE ANOTHER RANDOM CAR FIC.

It was the second Friday of the month which meant that Peter was sitting in Derek’s living room surrounded by people half his age, minus Derek and Chris Argent. Derek was sitting on the couch across from him, trying to participate in a conversation with Scott McCall and his little replacement girlfriend as they waited for Stiles and Lydia to show. It looked like it physically pained him.

As always, Argent lingered at the edges of the cluster. At least he didn’t pretend to be a part of it all. The kids avoided him like they were unconscious of it. Christopher never seemed to care. At some point he would most likely drift over to sit on the far end of the same couch of Peter. Peter would pretend not to be acutely aware of him.

For now at least he was alone on the couch to play with his phone in relative peace.

“Who’s gray car is across the street?”

Peter barely heard Stiles’s voice over the dull roar of the other teenagers in the room as he came in, closing the door too hard as always. Why Derek insisted in having a loft and having so many people over without adding more furniture to deaden sound was beyond him. After these little meetings his head hurt for a few hours. He should buy a rug as a housewarming present, two years late.

“Mine!” Kira said.

“Yeah pretty sure it isn’t yours,” Stiles said.

“The charcoal? It’s mine,” Peter said.

Stiles laughed. It should’ve been a scoff, but it sounded like a choking turkey. “Yeah I should’ve known.”

“You don’t have to be nasty. I would take you for a ride if you asked nicely. Maybe even let you drive.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Aren’t Corvettes a little mainstream for your midlife crisis?”

Peter heard someone snort behind him then start coughing. Chris was standing near Derek’s island with his back to them still coughing slightly with a glass of water in his hand.

“It’s a Ferrari,” Peter said, looking away and back to Stiles.

“Wow that's original.”

“It’s an F12 you uncultured little swine.”

“Probably cost enough for some dude to retire on and you’re driving it around like a trophy,” Stiles said, slumping on the couch beside him. He was sitting close enough for Peter to feel the warmth of his thigh through his jeans.

“Yes, well I can’t expect boys who drive powder blue tin cans to appreciate refinement,” Peter said, shoving away his indignation. He knew he shouldn’t have driven the Ferrari, but it was a nice night and after this he planned to take it into the hills for the narrow twisting roads when traffic would be non-existent.

Stiles’s mouth fell open like it was the first time Peter had ever insulted his CJ which was far from the truth.

“Roscoe is a classic.”

“Oh yes and that brown around your wheel wells is that patina?”

“You’re such a snob. If it’s not new and shiney you don’t want it.”

“Of course why do you think I put up with your mouth?”

Like it always did, direct flirting made Stiles turn red and clam up. Peter shouldn’t find it as entertaining as he did. He squeezed Stiles leg and got off the couch, going into the kitchen. Chris’s eyes were still red-rimmed from coughing.

“Is breathing too complicated for you now?”

“I’ve never seen someone make flirting look so hard,” Chris said, walking away and sitting on the far end of the couch that Peter had been on. He said something to Stiles and Stiles started to chat him up like he always did. For a virgin he was such a slut for a beard.

Peter rooted through Derek’s cabinets before coming back empty handed and sitting on Stiles’s other side. The couch was too small. Stiles kept brushing against him as he talked to Chris on his other side.

Peter pulled out his phone and let them fall to a drone before Derek started to talk. He didn’t necessarily listen to him either. He didn’t realize it had ended until Stiles jumped up from between them. Peter got up after him and Stiles lingered by the side of the couch waiting for him like he had for the last few weeks. Peter doubted very much that anything would come of it. Stiles was still a handful of months underage and the sheriff’s son. He had no interest in going to prison.

“Why aren’t you following your little friends?” Peter asked.

“They’re going to Kira’s house. Her parents are out of town. I got grounded.”

“Oh no what terrible thing did you do?”

“Dad caught me trying to read files on that murder in the preserve last week.”

“How cruel of him.”

“I know,” Stiles said, walking slowly with Peter into the hall.

They had taken enough time that the elevator was waiting and empty as they walked toward it. Behind them, Peter could hear Chris still talking to Derek. For a split moment, he considered waiting, but of the Argents Chris was by far and away the least predatory. If Derek couldn’t hold his own then he hardly deserved to be an alpha.

“Your car is pretty,” Stiles said, leaning against the back of the elevator as the doors slid closed with his hands clutching the railing behind his back. Peter could smell his nerves.

“Mm thank you. I knew there was good taste in there somewhere.”

“Can I really drive it?”

“As soon as you're eighteen and your father won’t skin me for finding out we were alone, then yes,” Peter said.

“I won’t tell him.”

“Didn’t you just say you were grounded?”

“Yeah, but if I’m a few minutes late for curfew-.”

“That is so sweet. You would break curfew with me?”

“Just to drive your car,” Stiles said, barely meeting his eyes before looking at the floor of the elevator. “Not like to hang out with you.”

“Oh no of course not, because you’re so obsessed with cars that you mistaked my beauty queen for a Corvette.”

“Shut up. They’re both like sporty, kind of.”

“It’s an easy mistake,” Peter lied.

As the elevator dinged and opened to the lower level, Peter walked with Stiles through the small dimly lit lobby that could hardly stand to be called that. The night air was slightly cool as they went through the front doors. Across the narrow street, Kira’s car was running. Pop music floated through the air before it was drowned under Lydia, Kira, and Scott calling to Stiles that they’d miss him and they wished he could come.

Stiles raised his hand and he smelled embarrassed.

“They’re idiots.”

“Yes they are,” Peter said. “Except for the red-head.”

“Yeah she’s good,” Stiles said. “Okay well I have to go. I guess I’ll see you next month.”

“Of course. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“It’s just like right down there. I’m fine.”

“Okay then off you go,” Peter said.

Stiles lingered for a moment. He wanted to be kissed, but Peter sincerely enjoyed freedom. Seven years being left in a coma ward could do that to a person. A few months was hardly anything to have gratification.

“Night,” Stiles eventually said.

“Goodnight,” Peter said, watching him walk to his car before he started to go to his own. He watched from the corner of his eye as Stiles went to the CJ and until he was safely inside and the headlights flooded the dark street.

When he looked back to his own car he almost jumped. Chris was standing beside passenger side door, his arms resting on the top of the roof as he looked over the lines of the car.

“How did you get out before me?” Peter asked.

“I took the stairs and wasn’t trying to get my dick wet.”

“Preparation for getting my dick wet. He’s still seventeen.”

“I know.”

Peter stared across the roof at him before smiling slightly. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You don’t know much about me,” Chris said before taking a step back, looking over the car. “I hadn’t seen the new body style in person. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Can I drive it?”

Peter paused for a moment before he walked around the hood of the car. Chris smiled slightly as he passed him going to the drive side. As they passed each other, Peter caught a faint scent of him. He was older, but he still smelled the same as the twenty-five year old he’d known like he always did.

The base of his tongue tingled as saliva pooled. Suddenly the handful of months before Stiles’s birthday seemed inconsequential.


End file.
